Jana DeLeon - Miss Fortune 06 - Soldiers of Fortune Read online

Page 6


  “Because we needed to talk to you in private,” Big said.

  “You couldn’t just call? Or show up at a decent hour and ring the doorbell?”

  Big cocked his head to one side. “We were unable to locate a telephone number for you, so that wasn’t an option. Would it really have been a better choice for us to show up at your door in broad daylight…perhaps when that deputy boyfriend of yours was here?”

  Just the thought had me cringing. No way could I have explained that one. “Okay, you’ve made your point, but you still could have sent a note or something and had me meet you somewhere.”

  “What we need to discuss couldn’t wait. Time is always of the essence with such matters. Even a single day can make the difference between success and failure.”

  “What matters are you talking about? Can you just spit it out already?”

  The smile vanished from Little’s face, and Big looked somber. “We have a ‘friend’ at the hospital who told us about an interesting body part received for testing.”

  Holy crap! The meth lab belonged to Big and Little Hebert and they were going to kill me here in my kitchen. Whatever they gave Ally would probably kill her as well.

  My face must have shown exactly what I was thinking, because Big raised one hand in the air. “Ms. Morrow, I assure you we are not here to harm you. And we certainly don’t involve ourselves in such sordid business as the production of meth.” He waved a hand at Mannie. “Step outside while we finish up. You make people nervous.”

  Mannie grinned and slipped outside, but I had no doubt he could be back inside, guns blazing, at the slightest call from Big. Not to mention that I didn’t think for one minute that Big and Little couldn’t be as deadly as Mannie if required. But I also knew how to read people, and everything about Big’s demeanor and body positioning told me he wasn’t a threat. My breath came out in a whoosh, and the tension began to evaporate from my back and neck. “Then what is your interest?”

  “Before we get down to business,” Little said, “can you please sit down? It’s straining my neck to look up at you.”

  I pulled out the remaining kitchen chair and sat across from them.

  “Meth is bad business,” Big said. “It kills people and destroys towns.”

  I stared. Was he serious?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Big said. “Our business ventures aren’t exactly the kind that you report to the IRS, but running books or acquiring the occasional odd object for a client doesn’t bring the kind of issues that hard drugs do. We like Sinful, and we don’t want to see anything like that moving through this town.”

  I nodded. I had a feeling their “business” extended a bit beyond bookmaking and odd-object acquisition, but I wasn’t about to say so.

  “You have to understand,” Little said, “we’ve got no beef with the moonshine trade. Heck, we have some interests ourselves, and even pot isn’t an issue.”

  Big nodded. “But meth is insidious. It creeps in dark alleys and behind closed doors, silently reducing a town like this to ash. We’ve seen it before.”

  “Okay,” I said. “You’re a little more melodramatic than I would have expected, not that I don’t agree with everything you said, but what does any of this have to do with me? Surely you don’t think I’m involved with something like that.”

  “Of course not,” Big said. “We never would have come here if I thought such a thing. But what I do think is that you’re nosy, and I think you and those old broads like to get in the thick of police business and aren’t afraid to break the law to do it. Most importantly, you’re good at it. Your closure rate on recent crime is better than the New Orleans Police Department.”

  “Uh, thank you. I guess.” He had called me nosy but it mostly seemed to be complimentary, so I was happy to roll with it.

  Little cocked his head to one side. “Out of curiosity, what does your deputy boyfriend think about your side activities?”

  I frowned a bit at the word “boyfriend.” It sounded so juvenile, not to mention permanent. “If he finds out about my extracurricular activities, he’s not happy, but I don’t volunteer anything about this particular interest of mine.”

  Little laughed. “I just bet you don’t.”

  “Anyway,” Big said. “The bottom line is that Little and I would like to know who was manufacturing meth in Sinful, but it’s not the sort of thing we can physically take on ourselves. We prefer to maintain a low profile.”

  Little nodded. “So if you were interested in poking around, we’re offering you anonymous assistance.”

  I know I should have ended the conversation right there with a resounding “no,” but the offer was so intriguing and unexpected that I couldn’t help myself. “What kind of assistance?”

  “You need a background check on someone, we can handle it,” Big said. “Weapons, gear for night excursions, fake IDs, flash money…whatever gets us that information.”

  Fake IDs? Hmmmmm. I filed that one away for future thought. “What about a boat?”

  “You don’t have one?” Big asked.

  “I’m sure you already know that I’m only visiting for the summer to settle up my aunt’s affairs, and she didn’t have one. Gertie and Ida Belle both did but we ran into some trouble with them, and they’re sorta out of commission.”

  Big laughed. “I’m not even going to ask. But to answer your question, yes. I’m happy to provide a boat. For the obvious reasons, it won’t be one from my personal stock, but I can arrange for something to be docked behind your house tomorrow morning.”

  This is the point where you politely decline.

  I knew I should say, “Thank you, but no.” Butting my nose into law enforcement matters was bad enough, but being bankrolled by the local mob to do it was a whole other level of insanity. “Let’s say I happen to track down the people involved. What do you plan to do with them?”

  Big raised one eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”

  I shook my head. It was a stupid question with an obvious answer. Besides, it’s not as if I had a leg to stand on with a moral argument against what he had planned. My entire career involved eliminating threats to public safety that the vast majority of people in the world never even knew existed.

  “It’s a deal,” I said. “On the condition that no one ever knows we’re involved.”

  “Ha,” Big said. “You think I want word getting back to my boss that I’m contracting with a deputy’s girlfriend for family business?”

  “Probably not.”

  Big extended his hand across the table. “Then it’s a deal.”

  Against all my better judgment, I reached across the table and shook his hand, feeling every bit as though I’d just made a deal with the devil.

  Little reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a business card. He handed the card to me and I saw it contained a single phone number.

  “Consider that your personal hotline,” Little said. “You need anything, you call that number. It can’t be traced to Big or me, and when all this is over, it will be disconnected.”

  Big placed his hands on the table and lurched upward. I leaned on the table, putting all my weight on the other side to keep it from flipping over. Once he was upright, I rose from my chair as Little opened the back door. Mannie was standing outside, whistling as if this were a normal every-night activity—and for all I knew, it might be.

  I held my breath as Big walked down the steps and into the backyard, wondering if the steps would hold him, and if he fell, would he crater the lawn. With Mannie and Little’s help, he made it to safety without incident. As they walked away, Mannie turned around. “Get that lock changed.”

  “Then you might have to ring the doorbell,” I said.

  He grinned. “Doubt it.”

  I threw my hands in the air and went back inside, closing and locking the door behind me—for what good it did. The only kind of people I really wanted to keep out of my house were the kind that weren’t deterred in the least by a
lock.

  I grabbed my gun off the kitchen table and headed upstairs, straight to Ally’s room. I hovered over her, making sure she was breathing, and let out a sigh of relief when she appeared fine. I glanced across the hall at my room, but knew I wouldn’t get a wink of decent sleep until I knew for certain that Ally was okay. I walked to the corner of the room and slumped into an overstuffed chair.

  My really long day kept getting longer.

  Chapter Five

  “Fortune.”

  The voice sounded far away, and I struggled to identify it.

  “Fortune.”

  Something shook me and I leaped up, gun in hand and ready to battle.

  Ally stared. “It’s just me. I didn’t think I was going to wake you there for a minute.”

  I lowered my gun and rolled my head around, trying to loosen up my cramped neck. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

  “It was a big day yesterday. I don’t even remember coming upstairs.” She looked down at my hand, still clenching the pistol. “Any particular reason you were sleeping in my room armed?”

  Crap. I needed a plausible story, and I needed to come up with it on limited sleep and absolutely no coffee. “You don’t remember coming upstairs because I sorta carried you after you assaulted a table in the living room and broke a lamp. It must have been the champagne combined with too much stress and not enough sleep.”

  Ally’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’ll replace the lamp.”

  I waved a hand in dismissal. “I don’t care about the lamp. It was ugly anyway. But I was worried because you were so out of it, so I kept checking on you. Then I heard a noise outside shortly after I went to bed and took my pistol to check it out.”

  “Fortune! You’re supposed to call the police. You know things never go well when you start checking them out yourself.”

  “I didn’t shoot anything this time.” Only because I fell into my kitchen. Otherwise, the refrigerator probably would have bought it. “Anyway, I was on edge when I came back upstairs so I sat in the chair for a minute, and I guess I fell asleep.”

  She shook her head. “I bet your neck is stiff all day. Anyway, I woke you up to tell you I’m leaving to meet the contractor at my house.”

  “Great. One of these days, I need to go by and see how the work’s going.”

  Her eyes lit up. “It looks awesome. The kitchen of my dreams. After I meet with the contractor, I’m going to meet with a decorator in New Orleans to pick out fabric for the barstools and cornices. Do you want to come?”

  My face must have conveyed my horror, because she laughed.

  “If you could see your expression,” Ally said. “You really don’t have a domestic bone in your body, do you?”

  “If I do, I haven’t found it yet. I promised Ida Belle and Gertie I’d help them with some Sinful Ladies stuff today anyway.”

  “Well, have fun and stay out of trouble—if that’s possible.” She headed out of the room and paused as she entered the hallway and looked back at me. “Oh, and someone parked an airboat in the bayou behind your house. See you later!”

  I waited until she was out of sight before rushing over to the window to peer outside. My pulse spiked when I saw the shiny new airboat parked in my backyard. Bass boats had been getting the job done, but that was totally friggin’ awesome. Big and Little weren’t playing around. I hurried downstairs and out to the backyard, anxious to check out the boat. I’d never ridden in one, but I’d seen them on television and it looked like a blast, and didn’t appear to be nearly as bumpy as regular boats. Plus, these things were fast!

  I jumped inside, admiring the bench across the middle and two captains’ seats perched high on the back. Everything was pristine, and the aluminum hull shone like new money. Even the giant fan on the back was pretty. I checked the ignition for a key, but it didn’t contain one. Frowning, I glanced back at my house, wondering for a second if it was on my kitchen table. I wouldn’t put it past Mannie to make a point. Again.

  I scanned the boat and realized the bench probably had storage beneath it. I lifted the seat and on top of a stack of life jackets, I saw an envelope with my name on it. I opened the envelope and pulled out the key and a couple of folded papers. The first was a handwritten note.

  Ms. Morrow,

  It was a pleasure chatting with you at the café last week. Attached you will find your summer lease for the airboat, as we talked about. Enjoy it and be safe!

  Bob Hebert

  Swamp City Airboats

  Hebert, huh? Probably a relative. I couldn’t help but grin. Not only had Big and Little delivered the goods, they’d given me a way to easily explain my acquisition. Salesmen stopped at the café all the time. It wouldn’t be a stretch for one of them to talk to me. In fact, I’d been offered deals on a number of items, including salesmen themselves. And Hebert was so common in Louisiana. Unless Bob was a known crime lord, no one was going to put together him and my association with Big and Little.

  I hopped out of the boat and headed for the house, eager to get Gertie and Ida Belle over here to see what we had to work with. With any luck, one of them knew how to drive the thing. With good luck, it would be Ida Belle.

  My cell phone was signaling that I had a text message waiting and when I looked at the display, I saw it was from Carter. I picked up the phone to read the message, hoping he didn’t want to hang out today. While I was happy that he seemed to actually be resting, as Dr. Stewart ordered, if he insisted on spending most of his resting time with me, it would seriously cramp our investigation. Not to mention that I wasn’t comfortable with a full-time relationship. Hell, I wasn’t comfortable with any relationship, but I could manage part-time. I just wasn’t ready to have all my waking hours under scrutiny.

  Going to watch movies at Walter’s. Will call you this afternoon.

  I smiled. Good. The two of them sitting in recliners was perfect. They’d get some rest, Emmaline would get a break from supervising, and Ida Belle, Gertie, and I could sneak out into the bayou without drawing attention to ourselves. With Ally off to New Orleans, that left no one to witness our complete disregard for the law.

  I sent a text to Gertie and Ida Belle.

  Get over here as soon as you can. Have solved the boat problem.

  I slid my phone onto the counter and poured myself a glass of milk. I probably had time to polish off the last of the cookies before they got here. I sat down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop. The first thing I did was Google the boat retailer listed on the lease. A banner with a bass boat and a face that looked like a combination of Big and Little popped up. Good Lord, that was a strong family gene. I hoped the women didn’t have it. The look wasn’t all that great for men, but for women, it would be a cat-lady sentence.

  I clicked on the list of boats for sale and scanned it until I found the one that looked like my lease. Holy crap! Sixty thousand dollars. That cost more than a really nice car. Big and Little weren’t exaggerating their hatred for hard drugs. They probably made plenty of money, but given my track record—which they also knew plenty about—they couldn’t really hope to get the boat back in the same condition it was delivered. Heck, given our history with boats, I’d be thrilled if it was still floating when we were done with it.

  I closed the boat website and clicked over to email to see if I’d gotten a reply from Harrison. I was more than a little worried about the attack on Morrow. I still hadn’t put my finger on what they thought it would accomplish. If someone was looking for me, then killing him wasn’t the way to get an answer, but then if I assumed it was the CIA mole that ordered the hit, then maybe they thought killing Morrow would draw me out of hiding.

  It was a sobering thought that someone I worked with—who received paychecks from the same office and made the same promises of service to the country that I did—could have allegiance with one of the worst people in the world. I knew money and power were a big draw, but to sell out not only your comrade but the safety
of future generations was a scumbag move beyond the limits of my understanding.

  I logged on to email and saw a message from Harrison. I grabbed a cookie and clicked to open the message.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Glad to hear things are going well at the farm. I know that could change at any minute, but it’s nice to have a turn of good luck. Speaking of which, the forecast is calling for cooler weather this week. I’ll believe it when I see it, but it’s nice to have hope again. I do remember that trip. I thought we’d never find a nice place, and then we ended up finding it somewhere we never would have looked if we hadn’t been exploring outside of the usual tourist lines. If things don’t cool down here soon, I’m going to start checking into a vacation. I probably should start doing some research and see what looks good.

  In other news, the auditors are here, so everything is a mess. They have a knack for asking for the one damned receipt that seems to be missing from files. So far, we’ve been able to satisfy them on everything. They should be done by the end of next week.

  Well, guess I better run and get back to work. My dad is getting better every day. He’s started complaining—loudly—so I know he’ll be fine. Talk to you later!

  I took a bite of my cookie and read the message again. Harrison had gotten my hint about Ahmad changing his appearance and looked like he was going to move on that line of investigation, which was great. Also great was that the first part of his message seemed to indicate he had a lead on Ahmad’s location. With any luck, that would pan out and I could go back to only looking over my shoulder every minute instead of every ten seconds.

  The audit part confused me for a moment, but then it clicked—he was doing a sweep of the financial records of the other agents, which fit in line with my thinking earlier that someone was getting a hell of a payoff to try to find me. His message indicated no success so far, but that didn’t surprise me. No agent was foolish enough to dump a bunch of money in a US bank account, but looking at everyone might expose some oddities that made him do a wider sweep. Everyone thought international bank accounts were private, but the reality was, nothing in the world was private if someone with technology and money didn’t want it to be.